5 Feast Of The Wolves (Evelyn Roda)

"Look at the little stray, she actually managed to find the cafeteria without getting lost or crying for help," a familiar, shrill voice echoes across the dining hall, causing a dozen students to pivot toward me.

I stop in the doorway, my tray gripped so tightly my fingers ache. I recognize the girl, Maya, instantly. She is the one who, in my previous life, spilled scalding coffee on my back during the first week just to see if I would scream. I see her now, standing near the juice station with her usual crew of sycophants, holding a tray full of food she doesn't even intend to eat. The air in the room is heavy with the scent of roasted meat and the artificial, floral perfume that all the high-ranking wolves seem to favor.

"I am just hungry, Maya, so why don't you focus on your own plate instead of mine?" I reply, my voice steady, lacking the usual quiver of terror that defined my former self.

The dining hall goes quiet. It is a unnatural, jarring silence that sweeps through the tables. Maya blinks, her mouth hanging open as if she cannot process the fact that the invisible girl just spoke back to her. I walk past her, my eyes fixed on the center of the room where the three Alpha heirs sit at their elevated table. They look younger, less burdened by the politics that will eventually turn them into the monsters who order my death. Jayson is laughing at something Simon said, his head thrown back, exposing the line of his throat. Simon is busy tearing into a steak, his movements savage and precise. Rafael sits apart from them, his eyes scanning the room with a focused intensity that makes the hair on my arms stand up.

"Did you hear what the trash just said to me?" Maya hisses, her voice loud enough to carry to the high table.

She steps into my path, her eyes narrowed, her hand reaching out to shove me. I don't flinch. I shift my weight, a simple, fluid motion I learned from watching the guards in the pits back when I was supposed to be a slave. Maya misses my shoulder, her hand cutting through thin air, and she stumbles forward, the force of her own momentum nearly sending her into a table of freshmen. The students at the nearby tables erupt into whispers, their eyes wide as they watch the girl who never fought back suddenly display a predator’s grace.

"I think you should watch your step, Maya, because the floor is slicker than it looks," I say, not even looking back at her as I continue toward a solitary table near the back.

I set my tray down and sit, ignoring the weight of the gazes directed at me. My main objective is the Lunar Shrine. I know from the forbidden history books I read in my final days that the entrance is hidden somewhere beneath the academy’s ancient foundations, likely tucked behind the cooling systems of the basement levels. I start dissecting my meal, my mind racing through the architectural blueprints I memorized while I was trapped in the library during my first life. I need a distraction, something that will keep the students busy and the staff away from the lower levels.

"She looks like she knows something we don't," I hear a whisper from a neighboring table, followed by a sudden increase in the volume of the chatter.

I glance toward the high table again. Jayson is now looking directly at me. He isn't laughing anymore. He is watching me with a curious, probing intensity that makes my skin crawl. He signals to one of the younger pack members, who stands up and begins walking toward my table. This is the moment. They are going to start the harassment early, trying to force me back into the mold of the submissive, silent Omega. I could run. I could pretend to be small and broken. Or, I could start planting the seeds of doubt that will eventually tear their perfect little social circle apart.

"Are you lost, or are you just trying to get attention by being difficult?" the boy asks, standing over my table with a smirk that tries to mimic Jayson’s arrogance.

I look up at him, my expression blank, my eyes locking onto his with the kind of focus that makes him shift uncomfortably. I think about the fact that this boy will be the first one to volunteer to lead the mob that burns my house down in three years. I think about the way he enjoyed the sound of the chains rattling against my skin. I don't feel anger anymore. I feel an icy, calculating resolve to see him suffer the consequences of his own hubris.

"I am exactly where I want to be, but you are standing in my light," I respond, my voice devoid of emotion, a tone that hits him like a physical slap.

He blinks, his smirk faltering as he realizes I am not reacting the way the "trash" is supposed to react. He looks back toward Jayson, seeking approval, but Jayson has turned his attention back to his own meal, leaving the boy isolated and embarrassed in front of the entire cafeteria. I go back to my food, eating slowly, feeling the shift in the room’s atmosphere. I have signaled that the old game is over. I am not the target anymore. I am the hunter.

"You should really watch who you try to intimidate, because some wolves are not what they seem on the surface," I say, my voice just loud enough for him to hear as he turns to leave.

I finish my meal and stand up, my resolve hardened into something brittle and sharp. I have mapped the path to the basement. I have established my presence. I have started the fire that will eventually consume this academy from the inside out. I look at the three heirs one last time before I walk out the double doors, heading straight toward the dark, forgotten corridors of the lower levels.

"The shrine is waiting for its keeper, and tonight, I am going to find out if I am worthy of the ghost I have become."